Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-03-27

cnainhchtb were muSlcdIiy ulScuSohn6
some ripe berries in the hedge. In
the distance Marion and Gilbert were
in the sunlight and as my
glance fell on them I asked myself II
there were many men and women in
the world half as goodly to look on.
They seemed to have unbent towards
ench other in the last day or two, and j
was glad Of that, and gave them every
opportunity of becoming friends.
They had been walking on the terrace
beneath the windows, and some OF these
were open, and the soft breeze stirred
the muslin curtains little as they
passed.
j thought they were coming to look
for me /; but no doubt they were only
SUI picious of eavesdroppers, and turned
haii uDconsciously and crossed the
lawn. for they were walking slowly,
and fefere they renchedme they turned
again and went in the opposite direc-
ton. But our garden was not very spa
cicus, and after time they came to-
wards me, and snatches of their talk
reached me.
at will do no harm TO make me I'M
derstsnd now, andI should hike to know
what you meant" Gilbert was saying.
| could not hear her answer, and
when they turned and came back again,
this time little nearer, it was he who
IVES speaking.
Glow was it possible to imagine that
YOU cared then, or would have remem-
bered still ? Oh, Marion, Marion ! what
can ] DO or say ?"
"You can neither do nor say any
thing, and l think it is rather insolent
of you, Sir Gilbert, to assume that any
thing you could possibly say would be
of the slightest consequence to me.
His answer was lost this time but
after a little caught her words again.
81 don't think you have any one to
blame but yourself, if that affords you
any consolation. As to blaming Aunt
Hilda, / don't see the good Of that.
She wanted me to marry Lord Stelfox,
and she did not want me to marry you,
and, from her point of view, that was
quite right"
But she told me that you were en-
gagged to him, and | was not satisfied
with that. l asked you if it was true,
and you said yes"
(Which was n very poor joke to
make with a person as literal as your
self. But you see | hardly took you
seriously, seeing that it was but few
little hours since | had promised to
be true to you for lifetime if neces-
sary."
"But the promise was such despe-
rately foolish one for you that | was
only too ready to doubt that you meant
it, he said with a groan.
"Eut you see | mean it. However,
that is not of any consequence now.
If you make Lucy happy | shall be
quite satisfied that things are as they
are"
Once again they passed out Of hear
ing, and again came back, and Marion
was speaking coldly and firmly.
81 forbid you ever to refer to this
matter again. You are my sisters
lover now, and, except in that capacity,
not of the slightest interest to me.
81 shall remember" he answered
gravely.
/ don't know how long l sat there
gazing straight before me blankly;
perhaps an hour, perhaps only IL few
minutes.
Now that I realized the truth that
Marion and Gilbert had been lovers
once. were lovers still in all but name,
1 seemed TO have known 1t always, and
in helpless way to have been waiting
for the blow which had Just fallen. But
that rendered it none the less cruel.
Why should | be always the defeated
one? Why should Marion's lovers
always trample over my heart to reach
her? Had 1 been more of heroine |
would not have remembered at that
moment that this was not the first oc-
casion on which Marion had wounded
me cruelty; but | was not a heroine,
and in paroxysm of wrath and rage
and misery L thought both of Gilbert
and MIR. Drew. What had L done to
her? Why must she always embitter
life for me?
And then to talk as she has done, so
cruelty and boldly within my hearing.
not thinking of me and not caring
Oh, life was unjust, and men and
women were cuel What had | done
to deserve such pain and shame OF
all people in the world?
fell PROSTATE on the ground, and
hid my face from the daylight, and
found no words for my despair.
Lucy, what in the world are you
doing We have been looking foryou
everywhere. "
1t was Marion who spoke, and / lifted
my white face and looked at her with
NY miserable swollen eyes.
"What is the matter ?" she asked in
an awed voice, though knew in a mo-
mont that she understood.
I rose and pushed my hair back from
my aching temples, and then | went
towards the door where she was stand
ing and said huskily, "Come."
Without a word, she turned and fol-
lowed ne across the turf.
Gilbert was standing by the hearth
when we entered the drawing room,
and hearing us he turned.
"Take her. / said, pointing to my
sister. and each word came broken by
sob ; "sle was yours before ] was "
and then / turned my face away and
burst into broken weeping.
1t was very undignified. and the last
thing il the world that should have
wished to do; but for all that think
I bore myself as brayely as they did.
Marion S eyes were downcast and she
could not utter a word, while ii ever a
man looked overwhelmed Gilbert did
then.
"Can you forgive me ?" he asked at
last.
"Oh, yes, of course l forgive you
but what was the good of making me
your scapegoat? Could you not have
loved Marion and left me alone ? What
had l ever done TO you "
81 meant to make you happy if |
could believe that, at any rate, . he
sAid in nm odd. lushed voice.